History Book

Life is funny. If the whole fucked up thing called living makes you giggle like a Japanese school girl getting well acquainted with a tentacle demon. Not every aspect of life, though. Mostly just the ones where you find yourself giving more than a shit about another person. And then they go bye bye. I accepted long ago that people come and people go; sometimes, you do not want either to happen but what can we do, eh? And once they are gone (yea, this is one of those rants), we move on, get happy and leave them in the lost chapters of our histories. But hell's bells, sometimes, as Stephen King titled, they come back. Fuck.

​And because I am me, I had one part of my past say hello while a piece of my present went see ya. Within ten minutes of each other. And neither one was expected. Damn, I hate when that happens.

“Friend” sent a message to me on the same day Scout decided that life was just too fucked up to be in a committed relationship. Oh, good fucking god. Now, based on that happy news alone, you may be wondering if I indulged in a bit of the alcoholic that night. Why yes, I did. Quite a bit. Anyways, “friend” asked how I was. He also pointed out that it had been a while. No shit. Ain't that the point of no longer being friends? After all, it was his idea to no longer be all best friend-like. I'm pretty damn sure I gave him exactly what he wanted; me gone. Simple enough, yea?

No, I did not respond; a Facebook message is not the way to get anything more than a public rant about the whole situation out of me. As with many of the people no longer an active part of my life, only a face to face will even get a listen out of me (unless, of course, help is needed, but that's a different story). It's been over a year since we last spoke (or, more to the point, yelled). While I know there was something he was dying to say to me the few times I saw (but never spoke to) him after I was informed that I am a horrid friend and the source of all that was wrong with his life, I refused to stop long enough to hear whatever dribble it was.

Of course, he hasn't actually tried to tell me. During those few run-ins he seemed to hold back from opening up. And I figured he never would. And maybe still won't. Seeing as how I didn't respond to his monosyllabic message, I'll probably never know. Closer to never than probably as I doubt the dropped line was anything more than curiosity. I believe that if it was meant as a step towards reconciliation, there'd be more than one message in my box before he'd realize that only face-to-face would do. And that only guarantees I'd listen; there are no promises of forgive and forget. A chance, yes. But really, there's close to zero chance of a sit-down even happening. Every kind of ex, be it friend or lover, are ex for a reason. And they stay that way because even if both parties were willing, one of them never realizes what to do. And of the few who figure out what is necessary, many decide not to put in the work.

Still, a part of me does wonder what the hell he wanted. He feel guilty and want to apologize? Are his “real” friends gone and he's all lonely again? Is this entire thing drinking related like the last contact (and there was an apology with that one, till he sobered up)? Now, I'm not going to attempt to find out. Not my shit to be dealt with. He has something to say, he knows what to do.

Of course, most people would say that last part there gives him too much credit.

​And then there's Scout. And the break-up. That was not caused by me. Okay, so this might sound a teensy-bitsy self-centered (but I promise its not), who the fuck was Scout to break up with me? We've been apart for four months; anyone really, honestly, truthfully think there was a relationship left to end? While I fought the urge to just announce it, by the time that message popped up, I was already gone. And yes, still foolish enough to think well, maybe...

Yea, that might have come across conceited. But really, its just honesty. The I'm sorry (not) but its over should have been spoken by me and not by the newly minted ex over a Facebook message! And... where was the sorry part where excuses are flung like the shit they are? I'm pretty sure that as the dumpee I was suppose to be allowed more than a few snarky, ego-busting, stomach-twisting comments designed to play on guilty feeling (for the record, I got none in before Scout went running for the car). All I got was a lousy email and my shit back. Such a fucking letdown.

Knowing I gave so much to get so little really warms the diamond-hard heart that keeps that ice water flowing through my veins. Alas, falsified happy never lasts; eventually, the truth is felt and you realize there's something not-quite-kosher. And then the other person beats you to the romance ending punch. Bloody hell.

And did I mention Scout wants to still be friends? Didn't even have a chance to answer that one. Mostly cause of the whole drop and dash. Damn it; I had the best mean shit to say. Again, bloody hell.

Well, least I can get back to having an active sex life.